


lukewarm herbal mango sweet hibiscus tea

by readingskai



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluff, M/M, One Shot, dramatic ass bitch san sings out his sadness, first fic so bear with me, i think it's fluff, just a lil angsty but not really, quarantine finally broke me and has me writing fics, soft?, this was inspired by a tiktok song, woosan are dorm neighbors, wooyoung is weak for pretty boys wbk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:40:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25253980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/readingskai/pseuds/readingskai
Summary: As Wooyoung is packing up his dorm room to go home for quarantine, he hears San scrolling through TikTok in the next room. Only San isn't just on TikTok, he's got his guitar out and he's singing.
Relationships: Choi San/Jung Wooyoung
Comments: 5
Kudos: 73





	lukewarm herbal mango sweet hibiscus tea

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was inspired by the TikTok song "Herbal Mango Sweet Hibiscus Tea" and the fact that my neighbors could hear my blasting it in my apartment. I hope you like it!! (if you don't know the song I recommend checking it out, the link will be right below)

[Song Link](https://vm.tiktok.com/JLSWVWY/)

Wooyoung was numb. There was nothing else to do, not in times like these when allowing himself to actually feel would render him a sobbing heap. Mechanically he scanned his (not his for much longer) dorm room, looking for any loose possessions to pack away.

The university had announced it was closing indefinitely due to the COVID-19 pandemic and sending every student home. In less than eight hours Wooyoung would be watching his campus disappear through a bus window. In less than eight hours he’ll be saying goodbye to his spring semester. The more he thought about it the more it hurt, so he resolved not to think. It worked for the most part, until he finished and was left with only stark walls and his roommate Yeosang’s empty bed for company. Yeosang had gone home early because his parents were worried, leaving Wooyoung alone in his packed up dorm at two in the morning knowing he won’t ever be prepared for the next eight hours of his life. 

He slumped on his bed with his back to the wall. Keeping his mind clear was proving more difficult than he thought. A part of him, the bright optimistic part, tried to convince him that this lockdown was just a bump in the road. 

_It’s only two weeks_ , the voice in his head hummed, _two weeks and everything will be okay._

Wooyoung wanted to believe it. He really did.

With his head pressed to the wall, Wooyoung could hear scuffling from the other room. He smiled in spite of himself- knowing there was someone else awake helped ease the loneliness. The room next to his was a single room, belonging to a performing arts major named Choi San. He wondered if San was also numb and hurting. Through the wall he heard the muffled sound of a guitar strumming and a faint voice.

“There’s lukewarm herbal mango sweet hibiscus tea…” it sang, and Wooyoung snorted. He recognized the opening of the song from TikTok, even though he usually skipped past it. Leave it to San to cope with mildly traumatic situations by opening TikTok at two in the morning. He didn’t know San all that well, but it seemed fitting for him. 

“On the hot garbage pile in which I fucking sleep,” the song went on, and this time Wooyoung realized there were two sets of voices. San’s falsetto blended nicely with the girl’s voice, which Wooyoung found overly high-pitched and grating the first time he heard her sing on his For You page. He let the fact that he was hearing someone sing a TikTok song through the dorm building’s wall in the middle of the night cheer him up, ebbing the worry away. It also didn't hurt that San had one of the clearest, sweetest singing voices of anyone Wooyoung knew. The guitar’s pace picked up and San’s voice got louder.

“The walls are empty, it’s so ugly I could burn the whole place down. It wouldn’t catch ‘cause all the posters are on their way to my hometown-”

_Oh._

_He's not just scrolling through TikTok, is he._

Wooyoung noticed now that there was an extra guitar in the music. By the way San’s voice cracked at the end, he wasn't just singing a viral song. This was San singing his pain out. Suddenly Wooyoung felt like a voyeur, a trespasser in San's heart and brain. Still, he couldn't move away.

“And I am not your protagonist, I’m not even my own, I don’t know anything, I don’t even know what I don’t know-” 

Both San and the girl sounded broken, desperate. Wooyoung had never thought about the lyrics of the song before. They stung like salt in a wound. 

“And if you look outside you’ll see, disintegrating trees, the artificial way the sunlight dances on the glitching leaves-”

Wooyoung’s heart ached for him. San sounded breathier by the second, beautiful but fragile and as if he were about to cry. It was like his body was made of crystal glass, and every note he sang brought it closer to shattering.

“My wet heart catches on every thorn, you’re already halfway out the door-”

Wooyoung had to do something, anything. Every emotion he had dulled started stabbing sharply into his chest as he listened to the other boy. He wanted so badly to comfort him, anything to stop hearing the miserable strain in his angelic voice. He didn’t even know if it was appropriate to come within six feet of him.

“And I’m so tiny, I’m so old, and it has never been this cold-”

San’s voice thinned out, and Wooyoung pressed further into the wall, chasing it. God he sounded so small, so afraid.

“And it’s like 85 degrees…” San made a noise somewhere between an exhale and a bitter laugh, “I don’t know what I need.”

Wooyoung held his breath as San dragged out that final, wavering note. Then there was a sniffle, and another, until San was undoubtedly crying and Wooyoug decided he didn’t give a damn if he violated protocol. He stumbled out of his room and before his brain caught up to his body he was already knocking on Choi San’s door. Holding his breath again, Wooyoung waited.

There was a faint thud from the inside, probably San putting his guitar down. He swung the door open rather cautiously. Wooyoung looked at him and noticed three very distinct things. The first was that San’s hair was pure jet black now, instead of the green highlights Wooyoung remembered seeing on him earlier. The second was that his eyes were red and slightly swollen, probably from crying.

And the third was that San was almost painfully beautiful to look at. 

“Hello?” San said, and Wooyoung realized he had been staring like a fool.

“H-hi San, sorry,” Wooyoung stuttered, running his hand through his hair, “I- um- I heard you singing from my room.” San’s eyes widened, his face going pink.

“I’m so sorry about that,” he apologized profusely, “I promise to be quieter.”

“No, don’t apologize, please,” Wooyoung reassured him, “I just wanted to know if you were okay.”

“Oh…” San trailed off, not looking Wooyoung in the eye, “I-I’m fine.”

“San, I can tell you’re not fine. I don't think anyone is fine right now.”

Wooyoung was afraid he’d overstepped his boundaries- as if knocking on his door at this hour wasn’t already crossing a line- but then San looked back down at him and he relaxed.

“You’re right, I’m not,” he sighed, “This whole thing is just… a lot to handle at once.”

“I know,” Wooyoung said, “And I don’t blame you for being scared, or sad, or anything, I’m sorry I just wanted to see if there was anything I can do to help-” 

“Coming here to check on me was enough,” San cut his rambling off. “Thanks, Wooyoung.” 

Wooyoung’s cheeks burned. Why was he so shy? It wasn’t the first time he’d talked to a pretty boy- hell, it was far from his first time talking to San, so why was he such a mess? 

Deep down he knew that it was because he had heard San pour his heart out that night, and somehow it formed a bond between them that made speaking to him practically impossible.

“You should get some sleep,” San told him, bringing back his focus, “You have an early day tomorrow.”

“So do you,” said Wooyoung, “Go to sleep, okay? And, uh, I’ll be here if you need anything.”

San smiled, his eyes curling into crescents and his dimples peeking out. Why hadn't Wooyoung noticed how cute San's dimples were until now?

“Okay.”

“Oh, and San?” Wooyoung asked as he was closing the door.

“Yes?”

“You have a beautiful voice.”

San giggled, light and bubbly, filling Wooyoung with an indescribable giddiness as he turned around and bolted for his room as quickly as possible. He was so focused on escaping that he didn’t even notice that San had never gone back into his room, lingering in the doorway to watch Wooyoung go.

“Cute,” he said under his breath, finally returning to his room.

Wooyoung, on the other hand, had collapsed on his bed in sheer embarrassment, reprimanding himself for being so awkward. 

“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” he muttered into his pillow. Just when he felt like crawling into a hole to hide forever, a soft voice came through the wall.

“Goodnight, Wooyoung,” San called. Wooyoung blinked for a second, not sure if he heard correctly.

 _This boy is going to be the death of me_ , he thought.

“Goodnight, San,” he answered back, and fell asleep feeling just a little bit less alone.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Whew, thanks for taking the time to read this! It's my first ever fic so I'd be so so happy if you gave me kudos or left a comment <3 have a great day ily


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